


resolving a minor dispute over a major debacle

by zappactionsdower



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: HELP I CAN'T TAG, M/M, PWP, brief mentions of dissociation, wheeze where's the threesome option here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zappactionsdower/pseuds/zappactionsdower
Summary: The king of United Fodlan lets out a tired breath and gives a tiny smile. Truly, he is a blessed man to have such caring men at his side.If they do not tear each other apart, of course.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 19
Kudos: 124





	resolving a minor dispute over a major debacle

**Author's Note:**

> Brief mention of dissociation. I wrote this at 11PM while fully acknowledging that sex is a thing and I'm terrible at writing it.

  
  
Felix does not like Dedue.

He does not _hate_ him, of course. Dimitri is certain Felix is too kindhearted for that, and the only creature Felix despises is Dimitri himself (this is, perhaps, untrue, but Dimitri cannot seem to truly untangle his friend's harsh words and excited sword strikes to get a whole picture – too many pieces are missing between the _before_ and the _now_ ) but still... there is enough evidence that the two are... less than amicable.

It is frustrating, because the two are, and have been, truly dear to the prince. Dedue is kind, and loyal, and too concerned with reputations. Felix is kind, and passionate in his endeavors, and seems to walk a path of his own making.

“You two are very similar.” he remarks one day, over a meal that truly looks impressive even if Dimitri himself cannot gauge whether it is well-cooked.

“i didn't ignore out my common sense to follow a boar to an early grave.” Felix grumbles, and though the words sting, there is an underlying unease that his classmate only uses around him. Fear? Of Dimitri? Or of Dimitr's fate that he carries as the sole survivor of Duscur? “You should get a second helping. You didn't eat enough earlier.”

It is easy for Dimitri to forget such things. Strange, that Felix would remember. “I should leave some for others, Felix.”

Felix huffs and shoves his plate over. “Eat.”

Dedue does not care for Felix. Well, that is not entirely true either – Dedue's heart is the size of a mountain and far better of a man than Dimitri can ever hope to be. But he always watches Felix the same way a wolf observes a Galatean Snowcat. Not quite a threat, but a wild creature that cannot be allowed in its territory.

“I do not like this.” Dedue murmurs much later, as he and Dimitri work on the garden together. Dimitri is rather terrible at the minute parts of the process, but Dedue is naturally patient and Dimitri finds digging his fingers into the earth is surprisingly soothing.

“Felix will not allow any harm to come to me. The professor has asked us to work as partners during the mission. There's no need to fret.”

“He is too harsh with you.” Dedue gently, always gently, hands Dimitri a set of plain-looking seeds. “Here.”

Coming back to the land of the living is a great deal like waking up from a long, ghoulish nightmare. It is... difficult, and even more difficult because Dimitri cannot allow himself to rest and reflect. He has committed himself fully to the needs of the living, and there are very many living who need a steady hand.

It is vexing, that Claude would prefer to hand him a whole _country_ instead of stepping up to heal Fodlan's scars. It is more vexing that somehow, Dimitri is the only one aside from Byleth in a position to rule.

He does not deserve a crown, let alone to have people looking at him with such... relief? Hope?

Most people, at least.

“You shouldn't have even bothered giving that Count the time of day.” Felix tosses a dried piece of paper on the table in front of them. “You're the _king_. You can tell people no.”

If only it was that simple. “Not everyone will willingly provide supplies to reconstruction, Felix. And many have nothing to provide. I recognize that...”

“That bastard's lands were _untouched_ given how he'd groveled at the Empire's feet. You owe him nothing, Dimitri.” Felix crosses his arms. “We didn't win this war for you to be dragged down by simpering old men.”

Behind him, Dedue rumbles.

“I'm not _wrong_ , Shadow.” Felix warns, eyes still fixed on Dimitri.

“His Majesty has been working for most of the day. Perhaps it best that you table this in favor of dinner and a hot bath.”

The king of United Fodlan lets out a tired breath and gives a tiny smile. Truly, he is a blessed man to have such caring men at his side.

If they do not tear each other apart, of course.

“Felix.... as always, your advice is welcomed. It's... true that I need to be more assertive when dealing with our elderly nobles who wish to cling to the old order.” Dimitri breathes, letting some of his earlier stress draw out of him. “Dedue is also correct. I am... rather worn out. Are you not hungry, Felix?”

Felix _tchs_ , which is as much of a surrender as the young Duke is willing to give. Dimitri rises, gathering his notes from the day's meetings so he can re-read them later and without the incessant chatter of nobles around him to distract his focus.

“Allow me some privacy, and I will see you both later tonight.”

He closes the door, but as he does so, he hears snippets from inside.

“You coddle him too much.”

“And you push him too hard.”

Dimitri sighs.

It's not the first time he's heard a... disagreement between the two. They both care, in their own particular way, and Dimitri is a stronger man to have them both than he would be without.

But it _is_ distressing, to hear his two staunchest allies argue with each other.

He cracks the door again, looking at them both with all the disappointment of a father catching their children arguing over weapons. “It would make me very happy if my two dearest companions reconciled.”

It happens altogether by accident. For once, the castle is subdued – there is a Faerghus holiday, an annual mercantile gathering in the former Alliance, and a huge four-day performance at the opera house in Embarr. It is, perhaps, the first time in many moons that Dimitri has been allowed to wander around and just _be_.

Felix and Dedue are noticeably absent, but admittedly Dimitri had requested they both spend time attending to _themselves,_ because as grateful as he is for them, he does not wish for either to forget to be individuals _._ Neither should be tethered to his side every hour of every day.

He is walking by a small enclosed guest room when he hears a thud of fists slamming into wood.

And a very low, angry string of curses.

That is Felix.

There is another noise. A low rumbled of a voice, and then another solid _thud_.

On impulse, Dimitri reaches for the doorknob. It was locked, but there is no door in Fodlan a Blaiddyd cannot break through.

Everything stops as his two most trusted friends stare at him.

Felix and Dedue are fighting on the bed. Their clothes are disheveled, and Dedue has the young Duke leaning forward, his too-large hand wrapped tight in Felx's dark hair while his arm is wrapped around Felix's bare stomach. Felix is sweating profusely, and...

Wait.

Dimitri perhaps does not have the, for lack of a better word, _education_ of say, Sylvain. But he would like to think he is at least a little astute, and the fact that both their trousers are down, and the way their hips are touching so close together...

He sees the outline of of Felix's... well, that is... Dedue is quite thick, from what he can see...

“Ah.... my... apologies...” Dimitri stutters, stepping back. “Perhaps I should...”

He turns, and walks very ungracefully to the nearest exit to the outside.

He should, by all logical reasoning, speak to Dedue and Felix. At least apologize for interrupting what was clearly meant to be an intimate affair he had no business stepping in on.

Dimitri can't help feeling... slightly vexed about it as he stares up at the frame of his bed as he attempts to fall into a restful sleep.

It is not that he is _un_ happy about it. Quite the opposite. Dedue deserves to be happy – he has spent so much of his life attending to Dimitri and ignoring his own independence that surely, something that is _his_ and _his alone_ is something to be cherished. And Felix has not said a whisper about marrying, and has spent all his time attached to Dimitri's side, taking part in even the most _inane_ meetings when a lesser man would have stormed out to find his own freedom. He too, deserves something... pleasurable. Something that does not involve Dimitri or nobles squabbling like geese over absurd, mundane things.

Dimitri just... feels a bit left out, perhaps. That his two dearest friends would not be forthright about their relationship. That they could not trust him to... give his blessing? Not feel jealous?

It has been too long since he'd even considered... fornication. Sex. _Fucking,_ as Sylvain would say with a wry smile. His teenage years are a muddled mess of trying to be _normal_ , to be the good, upstanding scion he was groomed to be before he could speak, even as the ghosts of Duscur – no, his _memories_ of them – clawed at his sanity. And adulthood... well, if he had indeed had a sexual awakening then, he is not aware of it now. Most of the memories between that prison gate and Dedue demanding he run, _live_ , and meeting the professor in the crumbling remains of the monastery are just... nonexistent.

He has, he thinks dimly as his hand travels low, tracing against his abdomen, never truly thought of his body as something that can feel _pleasure_. Violence, certainly, all sorts of pain and agony, but there were quite a few years where he felt barely tethered to it at all. It has only been recently, with the onslaught of mundane bureaucracy and no longer needing to hold a weapon, that he has started to feel _this is mine_. _This is my self_.

He thinks, distantly, of Dedue's shape. Of how _solid_ he is, how there is such strength in him as a Faerghus mountain itself. How it would feel to have those gentle hands tighten along his arms, holding him in place, how _warm_ it was whenever Dedue embraced him, albeit briefly. How he always smelled like fresh, clean earth and greenery. Dedue would be gentle, surely, calloused hands warm and large...

Dimitri thinks of Felix then, of the ferocious glint of his eyes and the always-coiled violence, carefully kept in check by his cool nature. How he always preferred wearing high boots that managed to show off his legs, so much more clean and sharp than Dimitri's own. He thinks idly of how... pretty Felix had looked, bent over, flushed, what it would feel like to touch that silky hair, to hear him curse, perhaps beg, say _Dimitri_ with such reverence...

He jerks, white exploding from behind his eyelids.

It takes a moment to realize he is breathing harshly. There is sticky fluid covering his bare hand and stomach, and he is still holding onto himself.

Ah...

This was...

Is this what it feels like?

Dimitri looks down, curious. It is a nice feeling, certainly. But...

But is it.... all right?

He should speak to Dedue and Felix.

By some mercy of the Goddess, he does not run into either of them for the remainder of the following day. Felix has agreed to go hunting with Sylvain and Ashe has arrived to trade recipes for his restaurant's seasonal change. Instead, Dimitri busies himself reading letters and signing off on new trade agreements. Lorenz and Manuela have requested more financial backing for their academy. The orphanage that Mercedes manages needs new clothing, albeit Mercedes is happy enough with old hand-me-downs. Claude sends a request for a get-together that fills up a page, and Dimitri spends thirty minutes untangling his words to gather that what Claude _really_ desires is for Dimitri to bring Hilda along for some scheme that he likely will not untangle for much longer.

He tries very, very hard to focus on work.

All he can think is how... unreasonably _jealous_ he is being.

That night, Felix and Dedue are already at the entrance to his bedroom, right next to a cart full of pastries and roast pheasant that he assumes is their dinner.

They both look noticeably uneasy.

Dimitri breathes, and forces a smile onto his face. He'd worked it out in his head, in between patiently telling an up-and-coming artist that demanded the Savior King spend an entire two days modeling (nude!! with a _lance_!) that such things were hardly a good use of governmental time.

“May I request we have this conversation inside? For propriety?”

Felix snorts. Dedue already has the door open.

Dimitri waits until the food is brought in, and gestures to the small table near the window where he dines occasionally. There are two plush chairs and a wooden one, and none of them take the offer.

Very well then.

“I am truly happy for you both. While I am... surprised, to say the least, it does me well to know that you have found happiness with each other. Please know, if you feel any obligation...”  
  
Felix scoffs and crosses his arms. “I _told_ you he would do it.”

Dimitri stops.

Dedue looks vaguely embarrassed.

“Boar. We don't... we aren't a _thing_.” Felix flushes again, looking anywhere but a the two of them. “We both.. want someone else. That is unavailable. It feels good to... do stuff. That's all.”

He blinks. Looks to Dedue, who still has his eyes to the floor and a slight redness to his cheeks.

“If I am preventing you two from being with a beloved....” Is there someone they exchange letters with? Surely not Ashe. Unless vegetables are a new code for... other things. And Felix barely likes _anyone_ , aside from... well, there's Lysithea, and Bernadetta, and Annette, but Annette is...

“That's not it.” Dedue rumbles, slowly, and his cheeks redden further. “They're here.”

“Then... is there an issue with reputation? If someone is attempting to shame you...” Dimitri's hand curls into a loose fist.

This time, Felix curses, low and full of irritation. He flops his head down, rubbing at his temples as though fighting a particularly bad headache. “Dimitri.”

“Yes?” He is trying. He _is_.

“Do you remember me asking you last winter to if you'd consider sleeping together?”

Dimitri blinks.

“I didn't mean share a bed like we did _when we were seven_.”

That was...

Wait.

That _is_...

“You...”

“ _Yes_.” Felix nearly growls.

“With... me...”

“Yes.” Dedue asserts quiet and terribly shy.

“But I am...”

“A _brute_ with no common sense. We know.” Felix rubs at his temples again. “Saint's Damned Breath, you're frustrating.”

“I'm...” Touched? Scared? Relieved?

Curious?

Dimitri does not have time to consider, as Dedue steps forward, broad, thick hands coming to run down Dimitri's shoulders and arms. He leans in, and Dimitri can do nothing but comply as Dedue kisses his forehead, then lower, and their lips meet slowly. As though Dedue is afraid of scaring him away.

Dimitri does not – cannot resist as Felix strips him bare. It feels... strange, but neither of them would hurt him. Not really. Not in a way that Dimitri would not demand.

He is pressed down against the blankets of his large bed, Felix's intense stare bearing down on him as Dedue mouths at his throat. It shouldn't be possible, he thinks dimly, or them to fit but the way Felix is running his hands down Dimitri's thighs and the way that Dedue is reverently kissing his forehead as his hands graze over Dimitri's wrists is making it hard to focus.

“Keep him busy,” Felix demands, ever the bossy one. “If he breaks my hips, I _will_ have words.”

Dedue obliges, his grip on Dimitri's wrists becoming tighter. He raises them above Dimitri's head, loose enough that Dimitri could pull away if he wanted. But the lips against his palm are pinpricks of _feeling_ , so new and alien that Dimitri cannot help but agree to whatever madness is going on.

He jerks upwards as he feels Felix's rough, calloused grip against his... his _privates_. “What are...” Something cool and strong-scented is slathered all over him, and he blinks rapidly as Felix leans down, lazily touching him in the most private of areas.

“ _Goddess_.” Felix mumbles, moving forward to rest on Dimitri's hips. His own... _part_ is already half-erect, and Dimitri wonders, distantly, what it would feel like to touch it. “Of course you're a brute down there too.”

“I'm sorry?” The ministrations are working, and it is so utterly fascinating to feel such warmth curling in his abdomen and lower, to think that his body could possibly _give_ pleasure to someone else.

“You're beautiful,” Dedue murmurs from behind, still holding tight to Dimitri's wrists. “Trust Felix.”

Felix reaches behind himself, and does something Dimitri does not see. He leans down, forward...

It's... strange. _Good_. Dimitri feels warmth, watches in rapt attention as Felix moves, lower, steady, and there's a tight pressure around his... his _cock_ that is making his mind go haywire. He pulls, trying to wrest his wrists free and Dedue pulls back, murmuring low, _hungry_ motivation to _stay calm_ , _you're truly lovely,_ and _Dimitri..._

“ _Seiros_ ,” Felix breathes, almost curses, his amber-sharp eyes fixed solely on Dimitri. “You're...”

On instinct, Dimitri moves his hips up. Felix curses, practically _moans_ , and digs his nails in to Dimitri's stomach. The sensation is sharp, lovingly so, and so Dimitri thrusts up again, again, watches, fascinated, as Felix comes undone above him. The solid weight of Dedue holds him together, but only barely because Dimitr's heart is pounding, he feels... he feels...

Felix digs his nails in deep and throws his head back, going very still as he orgasms. Heat hits him all over and Dimitri _groans_ , the world again disappearing in an unfamiliar haze of warmth and relief.

He blinks, dizzy, breathing hard as Felix slumps forward, murmuring a string of low curses. Slowly, Dimitri realizes Dedue is no longer holding his wrists so he looks up behind him.

His dear friend is kneeling forward, gaze as ravenous as a winter wolf. His hand is over his (very impressive, thick...) erection, and Dimitri tilts his head, watching in utter fascination as the Duscur man brings himself to the edge of an orgasm. Unlike Felix, his breathing is measured huffs, all his intensity based around the grip he has on himself.

“Dedue...” he mumbles, hazy. “Can I..?”

Dedue wastes no time in grabbing onto Dimitri's hand and leading it forward, their fingers curling together over his (very warm, indeed very thick, could Dimitri do what Felix just did with... that?) body.

Dedue shudders, letting out a low, pleasured groan as white spurts out. With shaking hands he grips Dimitri's fingers, kissing every one with renewed reverence.

“Ugh.” Felix finally mutters, not bothering to look up.

“Did I...?”

“No.” Felix finally reaches behind, patting Dedue's knee and then letting his hand lop onto Dimitri's shoulder. “Don't you dare make this _soft_ , Boar.”  
  
“Perhaps we should clean up... before we attempt to discuss this?” Dedue offers.

“I'm not moving.” Felix does indeed move, stretching his body out before dropping down again so his head is pressed against Dimtiri's stomach. His hair is indeed as soft as Dimitri always imagined, even sweaty and clinging to the blonde's bare skin. “You move.”

“I'll get a towel.” Dedue kisses Dimitri's hand again. “And some water.”

Felix's gaze flicks to Dedue, and then back to Dimitri. He isn't scowling, in fact he seems... _calm_. “Wipe that stupid smile off your face.”

“Am I smiling?” He felt... _good_. Uncoiled. A little overwhelmed, perhaps.

Felix huffs. “You made us wait, Dimitri. For _months_.”

“I...”  
  
“Don't apologize.” Felix grunts as Dedue comes back and settles at the edge of the bed, dutifully cleaning up the... ah... mess. “Tell him not to apologize. He listens to you.”

“Do not apologize, Dimitri.” Dedue kisses his forehead. “We are both very happy.”

That night, Dimitri sleeps better than he has in many months, if not years. He is warm, and safe, and there are solid presences at both his back and front. Protective, and so very, very loving.

He wakes up, briefly.

“So when Countess Gildrar asked if I would plow her fields...”

“Goddess _damn it_ , Dimitri.”

**Author's Note:**

> And thus, in a scandal that rocked the royal court for a whole two moons, Duke Fraldarius banished Countess Gildrar from Fhirdiad for personally offending him.  
> And Dimitri, Saviour King of United Fodlan, developed a fascination with rather bawdy use of vegetable names.


End file.
